Begin, In Darkness
by marval3
Summary: Naomi can't define herself as a survivor. She's a coward. A hypocrite. She wants to die but can't even go through with that. Witness her past and present as she navigates the world of the dead.
1. Prologue

Guns she detested. Her conviction almost cost both of them their lives.

The gun was on the table, one bullet in the cylinder, easily in reach. The man sat across from her, lounging in his chair a stark contrast to her rigid figure. Amy cried her name, begging her not to all the while a knife digging into her throat.

"Stop! Naomi — look we'll work it out somehow, we'll work–" She started in her seat at the sight of Amy receiving a blow to her jaw, silencing her.

He tapped his fingers, his long nails clicking against the table, the sound drawing her wide eyes back to him. A crooked smile rested on his face, the smug expression made him sick to look at.

"Pick up the gun."

Naomi's mouth ran dry, her eyes flickered over to Amy, then down to the revolver, and finally back to him. In a whisper she asked, "If I do it, will you promise not to hurt her?"

Again with that smirk.

"Well it does help your case some, no guarantees though. Now," He leaned forward, and she angled back. "pick it up."

Naomi swallowed the lump in her throat. A hand reached for the weapon.

The man smiled, Amy screamed, and she fired.

* * *

She couldn't believe this was happening.

There had been so many of them, they swarmed the place, killing and killing and killing—

Naomi's foot caught a root, sending her flying forward. With a grunt she landed hard on the earth, her weapon disappeared somewhere into the vast foliage. Her hands flung out, desperately searching the twisted roots and overgrown grasses for her gun.

Just as she gripped it the sound of something trudging towards her, pushing low hanging branches aside and hacking the thick bushes, reached her ears. Panic struck her for she knew this wasn't the movement of the dead.

The gun aimed at the shadowy figure, finger poised on the trigger. She shouted, "Who's there?!"

—

**A/n**

Hello everyone! Thanks for giving this a read!

This story will have two parts to just about each chapter; Naomi's present and her past before/during the outbreak. This might be an AU, and I possibly will up it from T to M.

Please drop a review and let me know what you think so far :)


	2. Chapter 1

The muzzle of the gun pressed into her forehead. she readjusted the grip, the Atlanta heat coated her skin with a thick layer of sweat and everything she attempted to grasp in her clammy hands eventually slipped. With a better hold she dug the gun harder into her head, as if trying to bring about pain could clear her mind and convince herself that this _was_ the right decision. Her breath came more frantic now as she moved her finger to the trigger. As it rested on it, the digit shook from her raging nerves, trembling so much there was hope it would twitch too much and that would be the end, an unexpected burst then she could finally be at rest. But she hesitated too long.

She was a coward, if she wasn't she would already be dead.

A guttural cry ripped from her lips and she threw the weapon away, it landing with a rustle of leaves somewhere close by. Her head bowed, burying itself in her hands that gathered fistfuls of hair, numbly pulling at the strands woven between her fingers.

No more tears did she have to shed. She had already cried so much that now when she sobbed there was only a heavy weight on her chest, a weight that was there every morning when she awoke to when she managed to fall asleep. It suffocated her, constantly reminding her of what she lost and what she was: a hypocrite. She was the reason Amy was dead, and yet reserved the thought she had the right to grieve. She'd promised her everything was going to be alright. And it wasn't.

A dry laugh filled the air and she ran a hand down her face.

And she couldn't even do the same to herself, more mercifully so. While Amy got eaten alive by crazies, she would die quickly like turning off a light. Perhaps she should just throw herself into a hoard of one of them, then she would feel what Amy felt in her last moments; the fright, the abandonment, the pain of being ripped apart as their diseased fingers tore into her skin–

Naomi cleared her throat, straightening herself up into a sitting position. Mulling too much over how much she hated herself distracted her from her surroundings. If she decided to die, she would have it on her terms not by getting bit in the neck by a crazie she could have easily dispatched of. Her dark eyes scanned the forest, finding it undisturbed. Surprisingly no crazies wandered into the area, considering she was trailing the outskirts of Atlanta. The capital was no doubt overrun with them, after their mistake of venturing into Raleigh three weeks into the outbreak, they decided to avoid major cities the best they could.

The light began to grow weaker, paling in color and withdrawing the warmth it brought with it. Sundown was near and the idea to find safety for the night appeared in her mind, but there was no motivation in her. She sat on the tree stump until total darkness enveloped her surroundings, until the only sound was the crickets rubbing forewings together creating a quiet cacophony. Her joints grew stiff, aching for a long stretch.

Naomi closed her eyes.

* * *

Amy was a bubbly, vicenarian woman. Before the outbreak they lived in their hometown, a place that never changed and the only suitable shopping center consisted of Kmart and Price Chopper.

Sharing an apartment was never a hindrance, the idea was proposed by Amy herself in their senior year. She was going to a community college, moving downtown, and as Naomi had no idea what to do with her life beyond school why not move in with her. It was agreed, and within a month they rented a two bedroom, full bath above a restaurant. The greasy smells of hamburgers and wings would fill rooms at times, they'd joke about it, and it smelled so good neither of them could resist going down to buy some.

Years had passed and the weather was turning into summer once again. They hadn't moved from their hometown, at times it was stifling. With no change in scenery it felt like one was stuck in place, simply going through the motions, everyday the same. She had expressed her frustration to Amy, who was currently saving for a new car. The conversations only ended in arguments escalating to Amy questioning why she doesn't just leave.

Absently Naomi itched a bug bite she acquired from a mosquito.

Their fights were over quick, no animosity lasted between them. But she knew the answer to Amy's frequent question; she was her friend. And to leave her with all the bills — the woman would drown without her support.

Naomi sat alone in their apartment, as twilight drew near Amy would be on her way home from her job as a gas station clerk.

Dinner should probably get started, dinner being a frozen pizza. Once it was in the oven she flicked on the TV. Her brows bunched together at the glaring red line at the bottom, usually signaling some kind of emergency, the news reporter stared gravely at her talking mutely. She reached for the remote to turn up the volume but stopped short at the sound of the front door flinging open, rustling followed in the hallway as someone slid off their shoes.

Amy had arrived. She entered the room unzipping her sweater, lying it on a chair as she rushed to the fridge, returning with a bottle of water. Naomi noticed her friend's cheeks were dusted with a light pink when she turned to face her. Amy inhaled deeply as she gulped down a mouthful, seemingly refreshed she ran a hand through her long, dark hair to pull it up into a ponytail. She smiled warmly at her, jerking her head in her direction, "Busy day?"

Amy's brows shot up and she exclaimed. When she spoke it came out rushed in one breath, "The car broke down — again — so I had to leave it three miles back and of _course_ I couldn't catch a ride so I rushed home to call the tow company because my phone is _dead._" She folded her arms, a little frown curving her lips. "There's always so many hitchhikers, I don't like leaving our car. Where's the phone I need to call that place?"

She rolled her eyes. "You're paranoid!"

An astounded gasp left Amy's mouth as she went over to pick up the phone. "I am _not_. Remember that time some guy broke our window to steal your coat?"

Naomi threw a hand in the air. "We don't even know if that was a hiker!" She grew quiet as Amy held the phone repeatedly to her ear, confusion overtaking her face. She inched towards the edge of the couch, brows raised in questioning. "What's wrong?"

Amy looked at her, then handed her the phone. "It keeps giving me the busy signal. Is the other one off?"

Her hands flew down to the couch, patting around until she gripped the second phone. Naomi pressed talk and held it up to her ear, and like with Amy, the busy signal was there.

"That's strange. Maybe something's up with the phone company." Naomi said. "Want to use my cell?"

Amy shook her head, rolling her eyes with a loud sigh. "It's fine, that piece of junk can wait. I'm not going anywhere." She drifted over to plop beside her on the couch. "What's good on TV?"

Naomi turned back to the screen and remembered the alert that was being announced. "There's this," She turned up the volume.

"_...indoors. The CDC is doing it's best to find out how the virus is spreading but please, stay inside and limit contact with strangers." _

"The CDC?" Amy repeated, her head cocked. Naomi shared her confusion but the reporter wasn't done talking yet, so she hushed her. She gradually inched towards the screen as she listened intently. The reporter adjusted herself before staring into the camera, there was a look in her eyes she couldn't place but seeing it made her stomach twist into knots.

"_Stay safe."_

The screen went quiet then the message began to replay itself. Amy and her slowly turned to each other, their faces the picture of bewilderment.

She attempted a smile, but it displayed her nervousness instead. "It that some kind of joke?"

Naomi's mouth fell open, at a loss. "I...don't know." She couldn't stay sitting anymore and moved from the couch, her feet taking her to the window where she peeked out through the blinds. In the remaining light she saw nothing, as expected for this time of night. Amy joined her taking a look too.

"I don't see anything," She stated.

"Doesn't mean it's safe to go out." Naomi mumbled.

Amy gave the other a light pat on the arm. "Does that mean you're taking it seriously?"

Naomi gave a halfhearted shrug. "It's the CDC, they deal with this stuff."

Amy nodded vaguely, it looked like she was still trying to wrap her head around everything. Then a weak smile came across her face and she looked up. "You're probably right."

She snorted. More than half the time she _was_ always right.

Her eyes wandered to in between the blinds once again and a movement caught her eye. It was across the street, below a lampost. At first she thought it to be a person, one who didn't care about the warning and was strolling around, but with further observation she saw that they didn't move normally. They had an odd way of walking, dragging their feet or jerking their whole legs forward to move themselves. She noticed they hung their head so it laid almost flat to a shoulder, it looked broken.

Searching for comfort after the disturbing image she took one of Amy's hands in hers. She hoped the person was alright, she didn't want to tell Amy in case she insisted on going to check on them, which would ensue an argument on how she thought it was safer here but on the contrary we don't even know what's going on. The grip around her hand tightened and the woman turned to her with an unsettled look in her eyes. Amy admitted, "I'm afraid, what if something serious is actually going on?"

Naomi squeezed her hand back. She looked earnestly at her, trying to reassure her to the best of her abilities, "It could just be nothing. We'll leave the TV on, camp out in front of it in case another announcement is made. And," she drawled out the word, her voice pitching an octave higher. "there's a pizza in the oven. Sound good?"

Amy nodded, her mouth twitching into a smile. "You know me so well." Naomi received a pat on the shoulder as the woman departed to collapse on the couch. She hesitated in following, sparing a glance over her shoulder to the dark outside. Hopefully it was nothing, just a false alarm, a hoax. Although she didn't admit it, she was nervous as Amy was.


	3. Chapter 2

**A/n **Thank you to **E.S Kent** and **kvb89** for following/favoriting!

And I recently changed this from _In Tenebris _to _Begin, In Darkness. _The translation of In Tenebris is just "in the dark", according to google translate that is. And I wanted the title to be more In Darkness/what it is now. But the story is the same despite title change.

* * *

There was a harsh tug, enough to pull her down from where her body lay slumped on the stump, enough to rouse her from her sleep.

Her head lifted with a jerk, eyes searching wildly for what had rudely awoken her — her face fell with a horrifying realization that she had drifted off, leaving herself vulnerable. She attempted to scramble back, to pull her limbs closer to her, but something held onto an ankle, bruising the skin with bony fingers.

One of the dead had latched itself onto her; it's flesh was charred, most of it flaking off to reveal the bone underneath. The lower jaw was loosely attached to its face, hanging by a thread and brushing her legs.

Her gut lurched at the sight, and she snapped up, fumbling to unsheathe the knife strapped to her leg whilst avoiding the clawing hands. It took only a second when she gripped the handle to when the blade was embedded in it's head. Almost instantly, it sunk onto her.

Naomi gasped, scrambling back, kicking the thing off her as she did. Her back hit a tree and she pressed herself against it, drawing her knees in close, staring at the figure lying there with dead eyes.

It was daylight.

Naomi squinted, looking up at the bright sky. Her muscles were stiff from not having moved in so long, she could see a mist covering her skin and vaguely wondered if it rained. She leaned back, hitting her head on the tree, her eyes sliding shut.

She wished she could fall back into the darkness, where there was no sense of time, where there was nothing.

A growl from her stomach startled her, and a hand flashed down to cover it. Naomi sighed; all her food was gone, she'd have to search the forest for something edible — which she was mediocre at. But she would be a fool to go into Atlanta.

Naomi stood carefully, allowing her body to adjust to standing. Her body moved to scoop up her pack, slinging it over a shoulder, then trudged towards the crazie and retrieved her knife, then the gun.

As she walked deeper into the forest she kept an eye out for anything seemingly edible. Half an hour later she stumbled across a bushel of dark blue berries. As dropout boy scout Elijah had told them; chew on the plant for ten minutes, if there's no reaction swallow a little and wait a few hours. If you're still not affected the plant shouldn't be poisonous.

Naomi picked a small berry and pushed it between her lips, slowly chewing on it. As she didn't have a watch, when it began to feel like ten minutes she swallowed the liquid in her mouth.

As she had a few hours before she could eat, she decided to scale a tree and wait and see if she was going to die. A few paces away from the berries there was a tree with low branches, good for climbing. Naomi managed to pull herself up high enough where she could keep an eye on her surroundings, to see both if any crazies or if others came.

She wiped the blade on her pant leg, staring at the stain it left behind.

* * *

More announcements had been made, each one sounding more surreal. Chaos had broken out on the streets, and days later the building lost electricity. The other tenants, an old man by the name of Mr McKinley and an english teacher whose name was Oliva Roberts, joined them in barricading the only entrance to the floor and pooling their supplies.

Mr McKinley had a battery powered radio that could pick up a close signal to the local news station. The station was relaying similar messages to the ones seen on TV, except these included more gruesome reports of cannibalism and people who looked like they were sleepwalking en mass.

"At least the tap still works." Naomi extended her arm, catching Amy's attention as she offered her a cup of water.

A brief smile flickered over the brunette. "I guess that's the only plus," She mumbled over the rim of the glass before taking a sip.

A silence settled over them.

Naomi observed her friend's downcast eyes and closed off figure. She knew she hated this. They'd been here for a week and during it Amy had only grown more reclusive. Not knowing what was going on, especially with her family out there, was wearing her down.

To try and cheer her up, Naomi plopped down close to her and snuggled up. "Everything is going to be alright." She stated.

Amy scoffed quietly. "Glad to hear it, Mistah Positive."

She gently nudged her. "Come on, no bullshit. I'm serious. This is probably just some new disease humans haven't been introduced to before. They'll make a cure, and we'll be fine."

Amy angled her head towards her, the woman's eyes were hesitant to believe her.

Naomi put on an assuring smile. "We will be okay." To lighten the serious atmosphere, she added a joke, "You could always blame the government — who likely caused this."

She rolled her eyes, exclaiming, "Oh no doubt they fucked up."

Naomi snorted. The two of them looked at each other, and the room was filled with a chorus of laughter.


	4. Chapter 3

Wet droplets spattered across her body, soaking her clothes and allowing an abrupt awakening.

Naomi inhaled deeply, snapping up, and nearly falling out of the tree. A cry of surprise erupted from her mouth as she pivoted sideways, sliding off the wet bark. Frantically, she threw her arms up, grasping at the rough texture to secure a hold. She managed to catch herself; she hung upside down with both arms hugging the branch, her feet interlocked above.

Her breaths were ragged. Anxiety swam beneath the surface of her skin, she knew she was a mediocre distance up, falling would be easy. Why the fuck had she decided sleeping in a tree was a good idea? The plant hadn't killed her. Perhaps if she had died her body would've fallen out eventually. Gravity is inevitable it seems.

Coming to terms with the fate of the drop, she relaxed her fingers, then abruptly unhooked her ankles.

A surge of panic thrilled her, and in seconds her back crashed into a branch below. Naomi grunted in pain, her vision filled with black spots then swirling as she rolled sideways, landing hard on the ground a few feet below. She didn't move, only inhaled deep, shaky breaths. A torrent of rain continued to pour down, beating against her skin and turning the earth to mush.

She began to shiver uncontrollably, and knew if she wanted to last she would need to find shelter. Naomi forced herself to get up; her fingers closing into fists squeezing mud in their grasps, her spine as it straightened was on fire, a prominent line of pain ran vertically across her back where it'd smacked the tree.

She staggered over to where her bag had fallen with her and quickly scooped it up, hissing as she curled her back. Next she ripped up a handful of the plants, their roots came easily as the ground was already soft from the heavy rain. Stuffing the food into her bag, Naomi plodded off in search of shelter.

The rain got worse before it cleared up. It was now in the end of it, and the sun was beginning to set. Naomi had yet to find shelter. She wandered the woods until it was completely dark, the crickets had begun their song and chirped as she trudged through the foliage.

Her fingers were numb, as were her toes from walking in wet shoes for seemingly miles. Her feet dragged with each step. Her eyes were heavy, mind tired. Naomi felt herself sway, ready to collapse, when she snapped out of the daze her head craning back up — to see a light.

Her breath caught in her throat. Someone was out there. Her weak hands fumbled for the gun and she couldn't bring herself to crouch as she crept up the rise towards the foreign light. Naomi paused at a cluster of bushes that ended at a clearing. Beyond her, there were tents, an RV and a campfire.

Seeing the fire again reminded her of how cold she was. Her body ached for it, to be enveloped in the comforting warmth of heat once again. Her eyes did a cautious scan of the surroundings, finding no one there, she made her way over with haste to a log placed beside it.

It wasn't immediately, but soon her hands began to tingle. It was uncomfortable, but to regain feeling caused a ghost of a smile to appear. She sat ignorant, warming herself, until a voice cut through her like ice.

"Who are you?"

Naomi started to her feet, raising the gun and looking around wildly until her eyes landed on a small figure illuminated by firelight.

"Lower it." A sudden rough voice ordered, simultaneously pushing an object unrecognizable into her back. She grimaced at the pressure, but it focused her enough to stop her from falling into complete panic. After all she was a fucking idiot. Of course it was logical to approach a camp with a still burning fire, of course she came to the conclusion that _no one would be watching her. _Fucking great, Naomi.

"Lower. It." The voice repeated with more of an edge to his southern voice.

She splayed her fingers, a sign of surrender, gripping the barrel of the gun with two loose fingers. The child she noticed, still stood there. Watching everything with an unsure gaze. The man behind her moved to grab the gun and she took her chance; sliding out of the way so she was no longer in danger of being shot and used an impulsive kick into the edge of the fire to fling coal into the air and at the man.

Naomi didn't move for a half a second, waiting to see if she'd be shot at. But the distraction worked and the stranger shied away, yelling a swear which no doubt garnered unwanted attention. The adrenaline pumping through her veins allowed her to ignore the stinging of her ankle. Only one thought was in her mind:

Run.

As she darted back the way she came her ears detected shouts coming from behind her. Her heart thrummed an erratic beat in her ears as she pushed herself harder, faster, desperate not to be caught. At many points she heard footsteps or calls not too far behind, they only urged her farther away.

* * *

A rapid knock drew Naomi's attention to the door. She glanced at Amy, who was resting on the couch beside her, before pushing herself off. There was another knock; a louder one at which Amy drifted awake to and mumbled a halfhearted insult at the noise.

Naomi arrived at the door and leaned in to gaze through the peephole.

It was Mr McKinley. He looked nervous and confused. He kept glancing down the hallway as if he was looking at something, or someone. Naomi was about to open her door to question him when Mr McKinley suddenly jerked backwards and the peephole was covered with red. Naomi continued to stare through it, not registering what happened.

Loud footsteps sounded outside, joined by the sound of doors being kicked in and harsh shouts. Naomi drifted away from the door, perplexed.

"Amy." She whispered. The woman remained asleep. "Amy!" Naomi tried again, a bit louder.

The brunette stirred, raising her head groggily. "What?"

"Get up. Someone's–" She didn't get to finish the thought as their door was kicked in, causing them both to scream. Men rushed in, aiming their guns with blinding flashlights mounted on them in their eyes.

"Are you infected?!" One bellowed.

It took a second for them to regain their bearings, and Naomi stuttered, "N–no, we haven't–we're not–" The one appearing to be in charge lowered his gun slightly, and relief burst in her heart.

The man jerked his gun towards the door. "Take them."

Naomi drifted back as two men started towards them. By now Amy had stood, her body was rigid and eyes wide with fear.

One of the men grabbed her arm and Naomi snapped it away. "W-What are you doing?" She asked shakily, but managed to have an edge to her tone. The hand wrapped itself around her arm again in a stronger hold, and the man began to lead her roughly towards the door. "You can't do this!"

Exiting the apartment, the man tightened his grip painfully, bending down to whisper, "Be quiet." Naomi angled away, her downcast eyes gradually widening as she saw a pool of blood outside her door. Amy gasped behind her, taking in the sight of Mr McKinley lying dead with a bullet piercing the side of his head.

Her feet drifted to a stop, she fell into a daze at the sight of the corpse. A sudden jerk by the hand pulled her back to the present as she and Amy were led downstairs to an armored truck waiting outside.

Inside the truck was another armed man and a woman and her child. Naomi and Amy climbed in and sat crouched on the metal floor, their shoulders pressed against another's. They didn't speak, and tried not to catch the men's eyes when they returned from doing whatever they were doing in the building.

"Let's go!" One of them shouted up to the driver. The truck rumbled to life, and Naomi shifted uncomfortably, finally finding it in her to glance around the occupied space.

She cleared her throat. "Where are you taking us?" Amy's eyes snapped over to her, a brow arched as if telling her she should be quiet.

A woman spoke up, her voice sounding from in the back, "Somewhere safe."

"Safe? Like the refugee camps?"

"Yes."

Amy leaned over to whisper in her ear, "That's good, right?"

Naomi was still hesitant to believe them. She mumbled back, "Then why did they kill Mr McKinley?"

Amy's face became grave and at a loss she fell into an inner turmoil. Naomi pressed her lips into a thin line, folding her arms around her knees.

Who were these people? The Army? The battery for Mr McKinley's radio died before they heard any news of the government sending out any type of military help. The last they heard was whatever disease had been introduced to the world was quickly paving way, infecting more rapidly.

"I feel sick." Amy abruptly muttered.

Naomi cast a sympathetic look in her direction. "Try and get some sleep. I'll wake you if anything happens." The woman gave a weak smile, then shifted so her head was resting in the corner of the room. She, on the other hand, remained sitting vigil during the two hour drive.

A little over twenty minutes ago they'd passed a sign that was welcoming them into Hartford. The sign had opposite effect, although. They had been driving on the same road for a while when one of the people in the back maneuvered up to the front.

"We almost there?" He asked the driver.

"Should be just up the road."

At this Naomi nudged Amy with her shoulder. At the touch, Amy jumped awake, startling her. Both of their hearts were racing, but Naomi explained, "We're almost here."

Amy gave a nod, her distant eyes drifting open and shut before settling on staring out the back window.

The truck slowing its speed drew Naomi's attention to the front. The driver's familiar voice rang out, "We're her — holy shit. Do you see that?" Naomi's brows furrowed in both confusion and interest and she craned her neck to try and see what was going on, but the man from before was still standing in the way. Everything in the truck jerked as the driver slammed on the gas. "Shit we got to go–"

"Calm down you're going to crash us–"

Hysterically, the driver shouted back, "I'm _trying_ to get us out of here!"

Panic increased in Naomi's chest as she listened to the argument between the man and the driver. Her nerves weren't calmed at all by the roar of the speeding vehicle.

"Slow–"

Another attempt by the man to get the driver to slow down was cut off as the truck ran over something, and sent it up into the air. There was that moment when she felt weightless; her stomach lurched, her body was brushing the floor. Then they came crashing down.

The truck skidded forward and turned on a side. Screams from the child echoed in her ears as everyone slid towards their new floor. Bodies fell on bodies creating a crumpled mess of tangled limbs. When the truck stopped moving, Naomi and Amy were underneath at least four people. The child had transitioned to crying, and everyone began to shift, slowly getting up.

"Amy?" Naomi looked to her left, relief filled her when she saw the woman pushing herself up. They met eyes and Amy gave her an affirming nod.

"Godammit!" The frustrated shout silenced any idle chatter in the truck, drawing everyone's attention to the man from before who stood with a bloody forehead.

"What now, sir?" An unsure voice asked.

The man in question ran a hand down his face. His gaze darkened as he fell into thought.

"Get that kid to be quiet." He ordered the mother who hugged her child closer, glaring in the man's direction. Naomi straightened herself as he turned towards them, unholstering one of two guns strapped to his waist. He held it out to her, and she stared at it, not moving to take it. "Can you shoot?"

"Why not give it to her?" Naomi deflected, nodding to the mother.

The man glanced over his shoulder, kneeling down so he could say quietly, "Because I don't want to waste it on someone who doesn't have a chance."

Amy scoffed. "What is wrong with you people? First you killed Mr McKinley and now you're so quick to disregard a mother with her child?"

He gave a wry smile. "McKinley was the old man?" They nodded. "What have you been doing this whole time? Have you left the comfort of your apartment?"

It took Naomi a second to reply to his mocking tone. "No we had enough food so we didn't need–"

"So you haven't seen them." He cut her off in a flat voice. She met his eyes, there was something broken in them, something hateful. Naomi shook her head while Amy muttered a 'no'.

"Well," He grabbed Naomi's wrist pushing the butt of the gun into it. "don't get bit."

At a loss, the pair of them watched as the man walked over to the back doors, peered out and announced they were going to make a run for it.

"Do you want me to hold it?" Amy asked, gesturing to the weapon she loosely held. Naomi shook her head, knowing that the woman had no experience shooting.

"It's fine. Just stay close to me."

Two soldiers were braced by the door, and with a nod from the leader they slowly opened the doors and stepped outside. We waited in the truck as they scanned the area. They had just decided it was clear and went to signal us when a figure stumbled out from beside the truck. A warning came too late and the figure had latched itself onto the soldier's neck.

Naomi's stomach lurched as blood spurt into the air accompanied by a bone-chilling scream. Her eyes locked onto the thing attached to the person's neck: another human. Another _human _was ripping the flesh off of someone.

Two gunshots sounded in the air and the two bodies fell to the ground. Like Mr McKinley, they'd been shot in the head. It was the leader who had done it, he brandished his gun marching outside and glared into the distance.

"I thought you said it was clear — come on! Get moving! _Now!"_

Amy grabbed ahold of her hand as everyone rushed to get out. Gunshots were fired at a group of people approaching sluggishly not too far away.

The civilians stood aimlessly unsure of what to do, it was the soldiers who had dragged them out here so weren't they supposed to protect them? The leader snapped his head towards them, a wild look in his eyes and shouted, "Run! Don't just stand there!"

Naomi and Amy shared a frightened glance, but each found the courage to take off. They hadn't been paying attention to if the mother and child were following them until an anguished cry filled the air. They turned to see the mother beside her child as one of those things ate into him.

Amy moved to help, but she caught her by the shoulder before she could get any farther. The woman sent an inquisitive look in her direction and Naomi stated, "We can't go back."

"But Naomi–"

A scream caused them to look back to the scene to see that the thing had moved on from the boy and now was chomping down on the woman's face.

Naomi gripped Amy's hand and tugged her along. "Let's go."

"We could have saved her." Amy said indignantly, not wanting to let it go.

She pressed her lips together. "That guy said don't get bit. She was right near one of those things, it was too late for her."

Amy exclaimed, "You have a gun!"

"Which I won't use unless we need it." She said with an edge to her tone. The silence they fell into caused Naomi's chest to tighten. She hadn't meant to snap at Amy, but they did have limited ammo and she wasn't eager to shoot the gun anyways. After minutes of quiet, Naomi said, "Sorry."

Amy shrugged. "It's fine, I know where you're coming from."

They kept to the road without any trouble. At one point, they paused to look back the way they came to see if there was smoke in the distance or something. But there was nothing.

"Do you think anyone survived?" Amy asked.

Naomi raised her shoulders. "It's anyone's guess."

A loud rustle from the forest lining the road caused them to freeze. Naomi's hand drifted to the gun tucked behind her pants, resting on the butt. The bushes shook again and she drew the weapon, aiming it at the forest as something burst out from it.

It was two people who looked scared out of their minds. When they turned and saw there was a gun aimed at them they were quick to raise their hands.

"Who are you?" Naomi asked.

The man gestured to himself, "I'm — We came from the refugee camp, but it's gone now. Please don't shoot us."

"What's your name?" She repeated her question but phrased it differently.

"Oh — This is my sister Georgia, and I'm Elijah."

* * *

**A/n **Hope you liked this chapter, R&R please :)


	5. Chapter 4

"So what the fuck is going on?"

Introductions had been made, everyone seemed respectable enough to agree to join up for the moment.

"What the fuck is happening?" Amy reiterated her question, then threw her hands in the air. "Because I've got no idea."

The siblings stood close to each other, a hand shared between them with fingers laced for comfort. Georgia shrugged. "Neither do we. We were in the camp when all of a sudden gunshots went off and those _things _came in and–" a dark look flashed across her face. "started eating people."

Elijah heaved an unsteady sigh, his chocolate eyes flickered over the two of us. He asked, seeking for the change in subject, "Where'd they pick you guys up?"

"Great Barrington."

They drew blank stares from the siblings and Naomi shrugged dismissively. "It's a small town in Massachusetts."

"Oh."

"What about you two?" Amy ventured.

Georgia glanced upwards to the leisurely drifting cumulus clouds in the afternoon sky. "Born and raised in Hartford. We've been holed up here since they established a camp."

They all shared a moment of silence, regarding the information. A quiet guttural growl broke the silence, piercing through from the confines of the forest. The group bristled, four pairs of eyes snapping in it's direction.

Naomi's hand rested on the butt of the gun, her heart racing a beat faster in her chest. Forcing her gaze back to the people around her she muttered, "We should find somewhere safe."

Sounds of agreement rippled through the group and with haste they began the trek with uncertainty, keeping to the center of the road for safety.

Amy struck up a quiet conversation with Georgia, inquiring about the life in the camp; Elijah fell back alongside Naomi.

"You're much calmer than your friend about this." Elijah mused.

Naomi cast a wary glance his way, then puffed air from her nostrils a hand moving in a nondescript gesture over her face. "I guess it's just taking a while to sink in that people are going crazy and cannibalistic."

He inclined his head towards her. "Fair enough."

They continued on until they reached a steep inclination in the road. When they reached the summit, they were faced with civilization.

It was a small town, stretching only along the three mile length of road and four side streets. A large gas station gave the impression this was more of a pit stop for drivers rather a place for one to place their roots. Cars were strewn along the street abandoned, houses were dark and quiet. It emitted both an eerie and ominous feeling, no one was eager to enter.

Naomi drew the gun and put the safety off. She took the lead and glanced over her shoulder, "Come on."

Amy jogged to walk beside her friend, whispering, "Where are we going?"

She thought about it for a moment. The houses might have people in them — or worse those things. Unless other people had the same idea, the best place with the most food would be the gas station.

"Gas station." Naomi murmured, and saw out of her peripherals as Amy nodded then fell back to inform Elijah and Georgia.

Without incident they made it to the gas station's doors. Thankfully it was unlocked. Upon entering Amy's foot collided with an empty can sending it clattering a ways over the floor. The group stilled, unnerved by the sound. Amy broke a joke in an attempt to release the tension, "This place is in worse condition than my car."

And she was right. It had already been looted, most of the shelves were empty with one of them almost knocked over; it canted to the side resting against the shelf beside it not falling completely. A spray of bullet holes decorated the back wall and a chill came over them. Alarms rang in their heads, the strong question if they should leave prompted each individual silently.

The sound of something dragging demanded their attention. It was followed by a familiar choking sound that caused Naomi to raise the gun.

A store clerk limped out from the cover of the fallen shelf. Their leg was twisted backwards the bone protruding from a rip in his jeans. Barely decipherable on his blue shirt amidst the dried blood was the name _Jake _embroidered in fancy green letters. Jake hobbled towards them, moaning inhumanly.

"Kill it!" Georgia shrieked, pawing at her brother in fear.

Jake was halfway down the aisle, her finger hovered above the trigger but she couldn't bring herself to shoot. It was another person, or it _had _been. Whatever the circumstances she couldn't kill another person.

"Naomi," Amy's surprisingly steady voice ripped her from her trance. The gun was taken from her hands and Amy adjusted it to her grip, with a deep inhale she squeezed her eyes shut and fired twice, stumbling back from the sudden recoil.

"In the head!" Georgia snapped.

To their amazement, after two shots to the chest the thing was still coming showing no signs of the injuries. Amy looked on, baffled. The thing was almost upon them and having no time to waste, Naomi retrieved the gun and fired one shot into its skull. It staggered, then fell dead to the floor.

A heavy silence fell over them. Naomi wandered forward, ignoring the loose hand of protest from Amy, kneeled down beside the thing patting his pockets until she came upon a wallet.

Jake had been captured in a photo along with a beautiful blonde cradling a figure swathed in blankets.

A pit of disgust pooled in her stomach and suddenly she wanted to puke. Amy crouched beside her, prying in a careful voice, "You alright?"

Naomi pursed her lips, answering curtly, "I'm fine."

* * *

She didn't know if she had been followed. She crossed a river and backtracked to leave a false trail in case there was anyone good at tracking. She would never be taken again.

Two days had passed and Naomi assumed that whomever she had stumbled across no longer deemed her important, so she began wandering the forest warily again. The berries she took were sparse and were gone in the morning. Once again without food, shelter, and hope, depression hit her like a wave making her want to die again.

Her feet took her to a clearing where the afternoon sky was visible. Careening her head up she saw the clear blue so vibrant. There were no clouds, only the rays of warm sun bouncing to earth and the refreshing gusts of wind stirring up the forest, enveloping her lone body sitting on the grassy opening.

The sounds of nature were the only sounds. They seemed to somehow calm her thoughts, but the tranquility was broken by a soft hum getting increasingly louder.

Naomi stood, looking around wildly for whatever was making that noise. It now sounded like a chopping vaguely familiar to her ears. She recognized that familiarity with a jolt, but couldn't believe it until it flew overhead.

A helicopter. A working helicopter.

Her mouth agape, she watched as it sailed away and out of sight.

When her mind processed what had occurred she yanked her bag from her shoulders, snapping it open and pulling out the map inside. _CDC _was circled in red pen, that's the only place that could still be functioning now and have helicopters.

She wiped away the tears that were beginning to trickle down her cheeks and carefully folded back up the map setting it beside her. It would work, like Amy had wanted.


	6. Chapter 5

"Remember those music fests?" Amy mumbled. They leaned against another taking comfort in each other's warmth on the chilly night. Elijah and Georgia had the same idea. The pair were snoring soundly, Elijah's big arm draped over the smaller frame of his sister's. Naomi's eyes lingered on them for a second, then focused on her friend's puff of hair close in proximity to her face.

"Yeah, you always got shit-faced drunk dancing to crappy music."

Amy's body shook as she laughed. "Just because you never heard of the bands doesn't mean they're crappy."

Naomi quirked her brows. "We have very different tastes in music."

The head resting on her shoulder moved as Amy nodded. "True."

They fell into silence, and from the steady pace of Amy's breathing Naomi thought the woman had fallen asleep. She would like to too but after being left to her thoughts she found her mind drifting back to earlier, back to before she'd pulled the trigger and it was Amy who had her hand on the gun.

Gently Naomi shook her shoulder. Amy, if she'd been asleep or not, raised her head and peered curiously with pale blue eyes. Naomi inquired softly, "Why did you take the gun from me?"

They stared at each other for a moment. Amy then sat up, a hand running through her hair and scratching at her scalp. Her lips pursed, eyebrows drawn together slightly. "I don't know...I guess it was just on impulse. Everyone was freaking out and you weren't going to–"

"But I did." She cut her off, voice still quiet.

Sympathy blossomed on Amy's expression and her head did three large bobs. "Yes you did. And if you want to talk about it, I'm here."

Naomi acknowledged the words in the reserve of her thoughts. To show she appreciated them, Naomi patted Amy's hand saying, "Thanks."

The conservation died out and once again Amy adjusted herself to leaning on Naomi's shoulder while the other rested her head back on the wall. Soon both were asleep.

/

Elijah's watch was still working and when everyone had awoken he announced it was half past eleven.

The four of them stood in an awkward circle. "So," Amy began addressing Georgia in an unsure voice. "yesterday you talked about a refugee place in Atlanta? But how do we know what happened here didn't happen there?"

"It's bigger, I heard some other people talking about it that they have more guns." She paused, then added on in her tone was bordering on being defensive. "With or without you we're going. It's the only safe place left." Naomi and Amy narrowed their eyes in questioning at her demeanor.

Elijah gently elbowed his sister. "Knock it off sis. We've already agreed to be a group and we're not gonna leave them. But I do agree that Atlanta is our best chance." He glanced at each of them. "Whatever's going on we need to be someplace safe."

Naomi pondered for a moment, running over the calculations in her head. The results burst loud from her lips, "But isn't Atlanta like — a half a days _drive_?" Everyone's gazes turned to her and she decided not to stop now. "We'd be walking with those things all around."

Elijah raised his dark brows, side-eyeing Georgia who glanced at his hopeful look with pursed lips. Whatever mental exchange they were having, it seemed Elijah won when his sister rolled her eyes accompanied with a nod.

"Not necessarily," Elijah began with a smirk. "Lil' sis here has done four years in juvie for GTA. She can hot wire anything."

Amy gave him a skeptic look. "You seem proud of it."

Georgia shot her brother a light glare. "He wasn't exactly a model citizen either." At her words the brother irked a brow, his gaze sliding to face her. From the tension produced from the conversation, Amy and Naomi realized that whatever their history was it was a sore subject. Despite both wanting to know more, Amy inclined her head towards her friend and Naomi nodded, clearing her throat.

"So Georgia can hot wire a car, cool. We still need a map and food."

Amy abruptly turned, her eyes scanned the store before lighting up. She remembered seeing a map stand before and successfully returned with maps both of Connecticut and of the Eastern Coast.

"Maps are done." Amy announced.

"There's nothing here but garbage," Georgia said mildly, picking something off the shelf and tossing it. "I looked around before and everything good got taken."

"What if we look in the houses?" Naomi suggested, nodding to the row of white two story houses across the street.

An uncomfortable look crossed Amy's face. "Wouldn't that be stealing?"

Georgia's lips twisted up into a wry smile. "If everyone's dead it's not really stealing."

What a morbid thought; Naomi scoffed at it.

"We should probably go check it out now while there's daylight." Elijah murmured absently as he checked his watch. "It's almost noon."

It didn't take long for them to gather themselves as everyone had only the clothes on their backs. They moved as a group, walking across the street to the closest house.

"Should we knock?" Elijah questioned genuinely. Everyone blanked, it had been common courtesy _before_ all this. Now with the world in chaos was courtesy even an issue? Before anyone could decide, Georgia pushed her way through and rapped loudly on the door. Naomi shot her a look, disliking how she'd acted without asking.

They waited holding their breath, no sounds came from the other side. They all sent each other relieved glances. Georgia's hand reached out to grasp the handle when an object slammed into the wood from the inside. Alarm thrummed through their bodies; some of them screamed, everyone jumped back.

Naomi rushed over to the porch window and peered in. A figure in a pink dress stood at the entrance, ramming herself incessantly against the door. She turned around to face the group and hissed, "It's one of those things."

Amy appeared stricken and hesitantly came over to join her by the window. Her voice heightened in panic when she saw the woman throwing herself at the door. "Oh _god. _What do we do?"

Elijah gestured vaguely to the gun tucked into the front of Naomi's pants. "Use that!"

Naomi's attention flickered down to it. The weapon she'd been forced to carry because everyone else didn't know how to use one. Her mouth became dry and she dragged her eyes back up to Elijah. "I'd rather not. Let's just find a different house."

"But our safe place is literally right across the street. And there's only one of these things." Georgia protested, annoyed.

Naomi wouldn't classify it as _safe _if it's already managed to get looted and has glass panels for walls. Amy's quiet prying gaze searched her expression beside her. Amy was likely wondering if Naomi wanted her to take the gun again, but she knew the woman couldn't shoot for shit so she softly shook her head.

"Elijah on the count of three, kick in the door then everyone run back." Naomi announced. Elijah seemed to get what she was thinking as she positioned herself behind him and drew the gun.

"Ready?" Elijah nodded.

"One. Two. _Three_."

Elijah kicked up his foot hitting the lock, he had to do it twice before the door burst inwards. While he scrambled behind her Naomi inched forwards, scanning the new environment with the weapon. Surprisingly, the thing wasn't in sight.

The croaking demanded her attention. It rasped from behind the door where a thin, boney arm stretched out. The duty for what she _had _to do carried her inside, forced her legs to walk and focused her discordant mind. The thing in pink was sprawled on its side attempting to roll over, it's jaws snapped wildly at the air and it's decaying head held the hair of a beautiful blonde.

Internally she was fighting a war with her past to allow herself to pull this trigger, to do this mercy killing. She knew whatever this thing was, it wasn't human, it's ravenous and violent. To end it would be the right thing to do. Yet she'd made an agreement with herself to never kill at the hand of a gun again. She'd broken that vow once and her conscience was feeling the weight of it, feeling the weight of having to carry a gun around tucked in her pants. Naomi hoped that Jake had been an open and shut scenario, but this life now — with the world upturned — she had an inkling was the start of something that wouldn't end for a long time.

Naomi steeled herself, and fired.

Amy, Elijah and Georgia came rushing in after the gunshot. Amy drifted up to her friend, resting a hand on her shoulder. "Are you okay?"

Naomi flinched slightly at the touch. Her head turned to Amy and gave her a brief smile before walking over to the mantel.

Framed photos decorated the top of the wood. She picked one up; a group photo of two parents — one of them being a young blonde — swinging twins between them as they walked on a beach.

Naomi stared at it, swallowing the lump in her throat.

* * *

Naomi looked at map. The last sign she'd seen was for Mableton, and from there if she could find route 278 then switch roads some, she'd be there.

The matter had been discussed some, if Atlanta was gone where they would go. It had been the CDC, as there _had _to be people there. And seeing that helicopter gave her a fragile hope that they were correct in their assumption and there were people working to find a cure to fix this mess.

She found the sun and compared it to the map. The CDC was east, she was facing west. It was important to find the route, but first she had to gather her bearings and get out of the forest. She continued heading east and soon she exited the thicket of trees.

An asphalt road disrupted the grass stretching both ways; looking one direction she saw the dotted pattern of abandoned cars steadily thickening as it grew closer to Atlanta. A lone crazie or two wandered about, nothing that drew concern. It was venturing further into the capital that caused her worry. If it was anything like Raleigh she could expect hoards.

With caution she navigated forward trying to keep quiet. She had drawn her blade, her clammy hands wrapped tight around the handle. Her progress was painfully slow, but she'd rather be conscientious rather than hasty and have one of them jam their head through a car window to bite her.

Cars now surrounded her, a crazie stumbled close and took notice. Before it could attract the attention of its friends she hurried forward, ramming the weapon through the underside of its jaw. It gave a short gurgle, blood gushed momentarily from the hole where the blade slid out through rotted flesh. Naomi paused, her nose wrinkling in disgust at the rancid stench and vaguely wondered if she'd ever get used to it.

She bent down — wincing as she did, her back was still sore from the fall a few days ago — to wipe the dirty blood on the shirt of dead. Naomi held her crouched position, her knife poised on the tips of her fingers as she fell into thought.

That might work. It'd be better to wait until she got closer although.

Naomi straightened herself and scanned the area. Any crazies she could spot were down the road spaced out generously, then two miles or so was the entrance to Atlanta.

Tall buildings loomed in the distance. The silence was unnerving. She was used to seeing the cities lit up, hearing the honking of horns as people waited in traffic, but there was no life. A cool breeze had picked up carrying dancing leaves and blowing the dust off of the cars that hadn't moved in weeks.

In preparation, Naomi rummaged through her bag and brought out a bandana, tying it around her face. She checked her gun; there was one full magazine, three left in the other. A total of eighteen bullets. Her knife was her main weapon.

At the same, steady speed, she began moving forward. Naomi killed another five crazies by the time she'd covered the two miles. The sun was no longer burning her skin, it'd moved away from its position in the middle in the sky and had graciously taken on cloud cover. The collective sounds of groans made her stop.

In front of her the line of buildings began, rising up from the concrete in old structures abandoned by man. She hunched behind a car, peering over at a figure limping onto the street from behind the cover of the first building. Then another few stragglers popped into view, and abruptly a blob of limbs and decayed flesh stumbled into view sweeping away her breath. Naomi watched in horror, unable to draw her eyes away, as what looked like hundreds of a tightly wound crowd of crazies shuffled down the street.

Fifteen minutes must have passed before the last crazie made the turn. She'd slid down against the car, pressing her back up on it trying to calm herself.

It was like Raleigh. _Fuck, _was it _worse_ than Raleigh? Is this even possible? Yes it was. Naomi inhaled deeply. Remember Raleigh; if was possible then it can be done now even if back then it was a shit show.

Coincidentally, a single crazie drifted by. Naomi fingered her knife, taking the opportunity. She sprung up and away forcing the knife through the back of it's skull. The body collapsed instantly and she got to work gutting it. As she cut open the dead it's putrid, rotting stench floated up into her nostrils. She had to take a moment to puke.

Holding back her vomit was a feat as she reached into the gooey insides and scooped them up, smearing them on her body. She wrapped intestines around her neck, draping them along her body. Once the covering was thick and disgusting, Naomi checked the map one last time and turned to head deeper into the infested city of Atlanta.


	7. Chapter 6

**A/n **I tried looking up the difference between route and highway and there's something called a state route/road I believe, but I got really confused. Therefore I may be messing up what I'm calling route 278 or route 42 [one might be a highway but I don't know]. Feel free to correct me.

* * *

The blood of the dead had caked onto her skin, dried in the half hour since she gutted the crazie. The heat was stifling and the stench was volatile. Naomi choked down her vomit, keeping a wary eye on the lingering crazies that roamed the street, not nearly a concern as the hoard she had seen earlier.

After walking deep into the city she decided it would be a good time to check the map.

She caught sight of the street sign of Linden Ave NE then navigated to the middle of a park where she would be able to see all around her. Currently there were only a few stragglers who were too far away to worry about. With haste Naomi opened her sack and pulled out the map. She found that she was nearby route 278. She had to head north past a street called North Ave NE. Once she was on the right path she would know where to go, she memorized the correct street names during her journey.

The map went back in her bag and Naomi looked at the setting sun to get her heading then she went north.

•••

Naomi had found the 278 and was following it. She dragged herself to the right as a crazie stumbled too close for comfort, her hand drifting toward her blade as their arm brushed hers.

The crazie groaned and continued on. Naomi clenched her jaw and trudged onward.

The 278 connected with route 42, she then went onto Clifton Rd NE.

Like all the other roads Clifton had idle cars dead in the lanes. Strangely, there were very little crazies. Naomi was able to maneuver through them without much trouble. The lingering concern as to _where _the rest of them could be kept her attentive. There was a slight incline in the road and as she ascended it a buzz reached her ears. At first Naomi thought it was the exertion from the day finally catching up with her; along with being dehydrated and malnourished it was probable that eventually she would start hallucinating or something of the sort sooner or later. Yet it wasn't any of those things. The inarticulate noise turned into a cacophony of growls, gurgles and grunts instilling Naomi with a slow panic as she summited the hill. And over the view of the hood of the cars she was confronted with the cluster of hundreds — if not thousands — of crazies.

They flooded between the cars, an infestation that stretched as far as she could see.

Naomi stilled. She had found the herd. But the CDC—

She looked above the herd to search for the building and in confusion found it wasn't there. Panic welled up inside her chest and her hands itched to pull out the map despite the fact that she knew she was right. She had burned 278, 42, and Clifton Rd NE into her mind for days. Repeating it over and over under the blazing sun until she could say it in the dark of the night.

This was where the CDC was supposed to be. This was where her salvation — _Amy's salvation_ — was supposed to be. Somehow it was gone.

A drop of water hit her forehead. Naomi startled, forcing her arm to stay by her side and not move to wipe it away. Then another spatter, followed by another.

In a frustrated rage, she looked up to the sky. Heavy clouds had begun to gather over her head and rain was falling, rain which would wash away the scent of crazie. Begrudgingly, Naomi cast another look toward where the CDC was supposed to be. Then she dragged herself away, a fury twisting inside her.

The rain never grew heavier than a sprinkle. There was an itching in the back of her mind telling her that she should have stayed, should have pushed through the hoard despite the rain. If she got bit or scratched or consumed so be it, at least she would have a chance at finding out what happened.

Naomi stabbed the head of a crazie that wandered too close. She didn't care anymore about preserving the facade that she was one of them. It was pointless anyways.

Everything was back to being pointless.

It had been one thing after another: Elijah and Georgia, Amy, now the CDC. There was nothing left. What the fuck did she have to live for in this godforsaken world? _Nothing, _that's what.

Naomi wandered close to a few crazies, bumping skin with them and inhaling their stench. They eventually noticed she was alive and she killed them before they could sink their teeth into her flesh.

Without encountering the hoard again, Naomi chose a road and followed it out of Atlanta finding herself in the woods again. Night prevailed and the moon was hidden behind dense clouds that colored the sky black.

Shelter wasn't in mind as she reached into her pack retrieving the gun with the single bullet. Fingering the trigger absently she strayed deeper into the woodland, her dark thoughts overtaking her mind.

•••

Naomi vaguely remembered chewing on leaves and grass. A day passed and her mouth was parched, thirsting for a drop of water.

Throughout yesterday she had made peace that it was her time. If she collapsed from thirst or hunger she would be able to pull the trigger. Naomi found solace in the possibility that perhaps she would be able to see Amy after everything. It was then that Naomi burst from the undergrowth and took in the sight of a slow moving brook. The water was a temptress to her dehydrated body. She gulped, her tongue like sandpaper, and couldn't resist throwing herself into the liquid's cool embrace.

She inhaled the water and when she was satisfied she lifted her chin to observe her surroundings. In front there was a hole, covering the entrance slightly was wood and an entanglement of tree roots and vines. Naomi thought she saw the color blue inside but her attention was commanded to the sound of something thrashing in the water.

She turned sluggishly drawing her weapon. A crazie was limping toward her. Tiredly, Naomi strode toward it and pierced it in the head. As she was struggling to remove her blade, water was frantically stirred up behind her. She left her knife embedded in the crazie's skull and turned to see what _human _was creating that noise.

There was a child running away, blonde haired and wearing a blue shirt. The girl had burst out from the cave.

Naomi couldn't remember the last time she saw a child. It was a shock to her, she thought they would be among the first to get killed. They were helpless, loud, and naive. She stood unmoving, her eyes trained on the child as it ran wildly toward the woods.

The rarity was gone as quick as it had appeared.

Naomi massaged her chin and she jerked around to retrieve her knife. Her head was a cacophony of racing thoughts: should she have helped the girl? Where did she come from and was she alone? Naomi inhaled deeply and slowly cleaned the blade on her pants; with each wipe, the rot from the crazie left brownish black streaks on her begrimed jeans.

A shrill scream pierced the air and Naomi froze: that had to be the girl. For unknown reasons that she would later scrutinize to divulge why she had done it, Naomi sprinted in the direction the child had. She had made it no more than ten steps through the brush when her eyes detected a blue object. She put more force into her step and arrived just in time to drive her knife into a crazie's skull as it was looming over the girl. The girl gaped at Naomi, stricken by fear and relief. Wordlessly the child collapsed to the earth.

Naomi retrieved her knife and scanned her surroundings: she could barely discern a number of dark figures in the distance. She couldn't tell if it was her mind playing tricks, crazies, or something much worse. Whatever was out there, Naomi knew that they had to get moving; but first there was another pressing matter to deal with.

She heaved the girl up and leveled her steely blue eyes with her. The child stared at Naomi in fear and she remembered she was still wearing a crazie's innards as attire. "Were you bit?" Her voice came out quiet and hoarse. She hadn't used it in so long it sounded strange to even talk.

The girl ignored Naomi's question and instead was attempting to pry her fingers off. "Stop!" The girl pleaded. "Let me go!"

"Be quiet!" Naomi hissed. "Were you bit?"

The child fell silent. "No...why do you–"

Naomi didn't wait for her to finish. "It isn't safe here."

The child pursed her lips together, her eyes misting over. "B–But my friends–"

"Won't be able to find you if you're dead." Naomi stated and began walking, tugging the girl along. She made a mental note to ask the girl about who exactly her friends were.

They followed the brook, trudging down it with Naomi in the lead. The woods were eerily silent. The lack of birdsong or chirping from the frogs urged Naomi faster, and then the girl tripped. She fell face first on the rock bed, groaning in pain as she gathered her bearings painfully slowly.

She spoke, a mixture of annoyance and agitation seeping into her words, "Hurry up, it isn't safe."

The child stood yet when Naomi reached to take ahold of her arm she jerked her hand back to her chest. She raised a brow questioningly and the girl said, "I can walk by myself. I won't run."

Naomi narrowed her eyes but they didn't have time to argue so begrudgingly, she agreed. "Walk in front." The child quickly slipped past her and began moving.

They walked until the sun was low in the sky and a warm, golden light was cast on their faces from the west. Naomi discovered a tall tree overhanging the brook with low branches suitable for climbing and helped the girl up it.

The girl was on the same thick branch as her with her back pressed against the trunk. Naomi sat further out, scrutinizing the child silently. The girl looked miserable. Her bottom lip was stuck out in a pout, her brown eyes were red from crying and she occasionally rubbed her nose in furious spouts.

Naomi needed to know more about her. She began the questioning. "Who are you?"

The girl sniffed, her gaze flickering up to meet Naomi. She muttered, "Sophia."

"You came from a group?"

A subtle nod. To see it being confirmed only set Naomi on edge: groups were dangerous.

"How many people?"

Something in Sophia's gaze changed; even a child could see that this line of questioning was suspicious. In her head she came to the decision to be silent.

Defiantly, she folded her arms tightly against her chest and jerked her head so she wasn't looking at Naomi.

Naomi set her jaw, inclining her body forward. "How _many _people?" Again the girl was unresponsive. She hiked a brow at the child's stubbornness; with a quiet growl she relented. "Get some rest, we'll talk more later." Sophia's eyes curiously slid over to meet Naomi's cool stare. They remained locked until Sophia relented and twisted her head away, curling up to the tree.

Naomi scanned her surroundings, the rush of adrenaline had dispersed any tiredness and replaced it with a sense of alert. Twilight filtered down through the canopy, the rapidly approaching night made it harder to see if any crazies were wandering the woods, otherwise the forest was silent.

They wouldn't be able to move until tomorrow; until she interrogated Sophia and found out exactly who she was. Then there was the problem of what to do with her.

* * *

The four of them had cleaned out the house, finding eight cans of food and a bar of soap. They decided they would try next door tomorrow, and as the house actually had wooden doors versus glass walls, they agreed the house would serve as a safer camp for the night.

They placed chairs against the broken door, Elijah agreeing to take first watch. Georgia, Naomi and Amy slept in the living room which was adjacent to the entrance. Naomi and Amy snuggled on the couch, the latter fell asleep first while Naomi subtlety observed Georgia from across the room.

She didn't like Georgia. The woman seemed to act without thinking, her brother was the level-headed one out of the pair. Hopefully, Georgia would change as they got to know her more. And hopefully, the four of them would make it to Atlanta with everyone in one piece.

•••

When morning came it was Amy who woke everyone up, her shift had been the last. She gave Elijah back his watch that she'd been using to keep track of the time and eventually the group navigated outside onto the front porch.

Due to it being summer the morning temperature was already creeping upward and a warm breeze wafted through the air, bouncing wind chimes together and carrying the sweet aroma of flowers. Amy looked up at the sky: puffy white clouds drifted leisurely across the sea of blue. A bittersweet smile twisted her lips. This moment was so utterly peaceful. This instant in time was carved away from whatever hell was waiting for them outside this house; she wished fleetingly they could stay here instead of going to Atlanta.

She leaned her head against Naomi's shoulder and her friend tilted her head to do the same.

"Are we ready to check the rest of the houses?" Elijah suggested.

"What if there's people?" Georgia questioned. "Are we gonna rob them?"

Naomi rolled her eyes. "No Georgia we're not going to rob them. We'll leave them alone, but I haven't seen any sign that people are still here."

"The army probably came and took them." Amy said quietly. She remembered when the same thing happened to her and Naomi and her stomach churned as the memory of Mr McKinley's head blown out appeared in her mind.

"Alright," Elijah mustered a smile. "how much ammo do you have left?" He asked Naomi.

Naomi pulled out the gun and looked at the magazine, observing the small holes every five rounds. After she was done she announced, "There's seven bullets." The statement unsettled the group: that was seven bullets until they were weaponless.

It was Georgia who spurred life back into the bleak moment. She flashed a knife she'd taken from the kitchen and her lips curved into a smirk. "I hope we find better weapons than a kitchen knife then." She then strutted down the stairs and began to head next door.

The three of them exchanged exasperated looks before charging after the woman. Elijah was the first to reach her as she was about to ring the doorbell. "Georgia!" He snapped. "What are you doing?"

Her eyes flickered over everyone's faces. "Checking the other houses?"

"Yes but we're supposed to do it together." Naomi said with an edge to her voice.

Georgia chuckled. "What do you mean — we are together. Come on," she rang the doorbell. "let's get this show on the road."

She can't just go wandering off though. Naomi sighed heavily and shot the dirtiest look at the back of Georgia's thick skull. A hand laid itself on her shoulder and she looked up to see Amy, the taller woman offered an encouraging smile. Naomi smiled back.

A thumping against the door startled everyone.

A knot twisted inside Naomi's stomach and she took the safety off the gun. "We'll do it like before," She told Elijah. The man nodded and got into position, his hand poised on the door handle to throw it open. "On the count of three.

One,

two,

three!"


End file.
